Letters To Mary
by Scarlettrey
Summary: After a shocking and heartbreaking loss, Lily tells the story of her final year of Hogwarts through letters to her departed friend, Mary McDonald. As she battles with grief, she attempts to solve the mystery of Mary's note less suicide all the while dealing with the everyday pressures of seventh year and being Head Girl - not to mention the ever-maddening Head Boy, James Potter.
1. 31st August, 1977

Disclaimer: Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K, I am just borrowing it.

31st August, 1977

Dear Mary,

It was all Jane's fault, this. Well, not _this _this, as in my life, but the fact that I have begun writing these letters to you. Because I know you may be thinking that this is all a little belated, mostly on account of the fact that you've been gone for _months_, so why have I started writing to you _now?_

It all started when Jane Meldrum, my Mothers best friend and family physiatrist, told me to start writing these letters to you in order to _express _my _feelings _or something mad like that. I refused to for months and told her straight out that it was the maddest thing I'd ever heard, so the informed me that I was apparently in 'shock and denial'. I asked her (snappishly) whether writing letters to you as if expecting an answer was an example of denial. I had hoped that being a cow to her would get her to lay off of me for a bit but _oh no, _this just encouraged her.

Anyway, that's not why I've begun writing to you, although I do, of course, miss you quite a lot.

I just need to know that you are out there, and that you care. And just because you may not be doesn't mean that it doesn't make me feel less alone.

And yes, I do know that its highly improbable that you're expressing your feelings of confusion at the belatedness and madness that _is _this letter, on account of the very real and very unavoidable fact that you are, after all, no longer living.

I'm not mad, you know.

It's not like I'm living in denial or anything; I know that you're gone. No one ever lets me forget it, I can assure you, and, of course, I don't _want_ to forget it, because I don't want to forget you. You were my best friend.

So, this is my life. Of course, you know this as well as I do, or _knew, _at least. It's weird to think that you're not here anymore, being alive and appreciating what that means. I don't think I ever did, until you left me all those weeks ago.

I want you to know that I neither happy nor sad and am still trying to figure out an alternative. Maybe there isn't, no one seems to understand when I explain to them. You would have, though. I know it. "Happy and sad are too simple for girls like us, Lily," you'd say, "We are a whole new biosphere of describing words, my love." I would have laughed while you smiled that sad little smile that I was so used to receiving within those last months of your life.

The hardest time so far was the day that Pepper and Lisa came around to visit, and Jane had popped out from my parents' room with my mother in tow, asking us to share our feelings. Pepper who is, as you know, ridiculously whimsical stated the usual shoddiness about how you are in a better place and that at least you will be happy there as you weren't in life. Lisa was much the same saying that it was very sad but at least you are with god now.

I wasn't too sure though, and when Jane turned to me expectantly I was caught off guard with the suddenness of it all. I didn't know what I felt; it had only been two weeks, after all. I felt like any minute now you were going to walk in my front door to join your three best friends and proclaim your sudden urge for ice-cream. That was really the moment that I realised that you were gone, and, distracted as I was at the sudden realisation, I blurted out the first thing that I thought and also the thing that I knew, spat out in disjointed sentences and riddled with sniffs and sobs.

"I think that Mary was really nice," I had sobbed as Jane looked at me sympathetically and tears poured down my (now only two) best friend's faces. "And I don't know why she did it, and that's what bothers me."

And as disjointed and thoughtless my outpouring was, I knew that this was exactly how I felt. And it hurt. It hurt because my best friend killed herself and I have absolutely no idea why.

I think that I would really like to find out why, and I feel like writing these letters to you is a way that I can be closer to you.

Another reason I've decided to write to you is that it's the first day of term tomorrow, you see, and I'm very worried and nervous about the coming year for many reasons, including and mostly because I know that I'm going to have to face Hogwarts without you for the first time in my life, and I'm not sure if I can do that. I think that I agree with Jane when she says that worry and nervousness is a symptom of grieving.

So this is why I've written this letter to you. It's not too bad now, but earlier on in the night I was a lot less partial to the whole affair. I was begging mum to let me stay home for the year, you see. I know how silly that is, and how mad you would have been at me for missing my seventh year of Hogwarts and would have reminded me that it is, after all, my favourite place in the world. I know all this, of course, and a part of me knows I could never miss my seventh year, but that didn't stop me from begging mum to let me stay home. So, naturally, as I sat on the couch watching the Sunday night episode of _Doctor Who_ with mum, I began my attack.

Me: "Please let me stay home for the year, mother. I don't think I can face it."

Mum: "One of the symptoms of depression is disinterest in the things you love."

Me: "I am not depressed, and, incidentally, _Doctor Who _is a thing that I love, and I am very interested."

Mum: "_Doctor Who _doesn't count."

Me: "Mum, please?"

Mum: "You need to get out of the house, Lily, and see all of your friends again. You are going to school this year and that is final."

Me: "UGHHHHHHHH."

And that is pretty much how it went down, including the part where I proceeded to stomp up to my room, muttering obscenities and begginning to pack my trunk for the school year.

After a little while of my stomping and muttering, my mother then appeared at my doorway, looking wary of the prospect of facing the snarling dragon (i.e me). She was very nice about it all, though. I think that this may be another symptom of grieving; the fact that people will always be that little bit nicer to you than usual. My mother smiled at me and sat on my bed, watching as I threw transfiguration books into my trunk while Casper, my owl, hooted from his cage in the corner.

"I'm sorry, my love." My mother had said, while I turned to her in surprise, a jumper dangling from my left hand. "This must be so hard for you."

I looked at her in surprise and assured her that I was fine. Pity from others, I then realised, is another of the many symptoms of grieving.

That was when my mother spotted the shiny new Head Girl badge upon my desk and, picking it up, said, "I'm so proud of you for this. Aren't you excited to be Head Girl?"

I made a show of folding my jumper as I tried to think of an appropriate response. No, I realised then, I wasn't excited. And I know you would be mad at me for this, Mary, because I had always wanted to be Head Girl, and in another universe I know it would be easy to find it within myself to be excited about it. But as I thought about it then, I realised that there was too much to be nervous about. What if I mess up? What if I can't handle the work on top of my NEWTS? What if the Head Boy is someone horrible?

I didn't voice any of this to my mother, of course. I couldn't stand having to listen to her go on about how I'm the perfect choice for the role and that I'd do great _et cetera et cetera_. So I just turned back to her after neatly placing my folded jumper into my trunk and said, "Yes, mum. I'm very excited."

It was a mark of my mother's newfound symptom of kindness that she ignored the falseness of my grin and smiled back, stating that she had to get my robes from the washing and leaving the room.

I then collapsed on my bed, pulling out the red leather journal that Jane had given to me and begun my first letter to you.

So I should probably go to sleep now, but I hope you know that I miss you and love you. All in all, I _really _don't know why it is am writing to you, excuses and all, but I do know that I feel a tiny bit better after all. Thank you.

Lots of love,  
Lily.

**Hi! so this is my new story. As you can probably tell, I've decided to do something different - something that (I at least) have never seen before in the Jily fanfiction world. the whole story (which will go up to around 60 000 to 100 000 words) is going to be in the format of letters to Mary; I have the whole thing planned out and a few chapters written already. please ****_please_**** tell me what you think of the idea, so I know whether I should continue on this path or change it. **

**thankyou!**


	2. 1st September, 1977

Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters, places, buildings, animals, stories, spells, chickens ect ect do not belong to me.

1st September, 1977

Dear Mary,

My first day of my seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry wasn't very enjoyable, needless to say. It was very dramatic, and yet horribly boring. Am I making any sense? No, I don't expect so. Anyway, I suppose I'll have to tell you all about it.

My day started out as it has every year; my mother kissing me goodbye on platform nine and three quarters, my father beaming around at all the kerfuffle and my sister managing to avoid looking at anything and everything all the while with a disapproving look on her face. You know enough about my family to note that this is nothing new or exciting for me.

It was when I broke away from them that I finally ran into Pepper who was wearing a rose in her dark hair and a grin that was wider than I had seen in a while. After she had hugged me and informed me that I looked 'Stunningly gorgeous' as usual, I asked her what was going on.

"Oh, nothing much," she had answered with a grin that spoke volumes of the lie she was telling, "it's just that Sirius Black is wearing a leather Jacket."

If you were a third party observer, it is very likely that you would be confused as to why this titbit of information is interesting or important enough to warrant a broad smile from Pepper or an interested peek at the boy in question from me. But, luckily, you are not, therefore you are fully informed of the fact that Sirius Black is, though moody and indelicate, a complete sex god. And so you understand why Pepper (who is secretly in love with yet simultaneously terrified of him) and I turned to look at the wondrous sight that is Sirius Black in a leather jacket.

And there he was, leaning carelessly against the side of the barrier, his hands deep in the pockets of the blessed leather jacket, looking angst ridden and yet devastatingly gorgeous with his long black hair that fell carelessly into his stormy grey eyes and his broad shoulders and tall frame.

As it seemed to me that Pepper was at that moment incapable of speech and/or thought process, I found that it was up to me to state the obligatory Sirius Black comment reserved for when a woman is fawning over him.

"It's a shame he's such an arse."

As you may have expected, considering it was you who invented the 'obligatory Sirius Black comment for when a woman is fawning over him', Pepper was completely immune to the effects of the statement and therefore continued her shameless gazing. I grew weary of this quickly, as although I did appreciate the leather jacket addition, I am not, after all, in love with him, so I let my eyes wander to other matters.

I watched as Black flinched slightly and, wondering what would make the great Sirius Black flinch, followed his gaze that rested upon the cat that was swiping a paw at his arm while clutched in the hands of none other than James Potter, Black's best friend and fellow troublemaker.

I giggled a little as the cat squirmed in Potter's grasp and took a swipe at his face, knocking his rounded glasses askew as Potter grimaced and held on tighter. As you very well know, Mary, I can never _not_ appreciate when something is troubling the boy who has been a pain in my arse since fourth year. I also can't help but love the cat that Potter has owned and been thoroughly abused by since first year and who always sits on my lap, purring, during late nights in the common room.

Potter looked particularly bedraggled, yet handsomely so (as much as I hate to admit it) as he stood on the platform laughing with Black and wrestling the cat in his arms with his hair and glasses askew and scratches littering his t-shirt that advertised some Quidditch team or other. As bedraggled as he looked though, he didn't seem down in spirits at all; the ever present impish gleam in his eye and the broad grin sporting his face as per usual.

It was then that I decided that I had been staring at Potter and Black for long enough, and pulled Pepper away before they caught us looking, which I knew would be awkward because, as you know, I had hardly spoken to them since fifth year when Potter had continuously asked me out as a joke.

I then dragged my trunk and Casper in his cage onto the train behind Pepper and tuned out as she chattered about her sister and where we were to sit and how fit Black was, until we finally found a compartment filled only by the single figure of our other best friend, Lisa. As we trooped in, Lisa looked up and smiled at us, looking the same as ever with her muddy brown eyes and dirty blonde hair and overly skinny frame. She had already begun reading the new seventh year charms text, which she dog-eared and put aside in order to give each of us hugs.

We settled ourselves down and as Pepper continued her chatter, describing to Lisa in minute detail about Black's leather jacket and ripped jeans ensemble while Lisa listened and I sat back in my seat, not even trying to look intent. Pepper ignored this. (Being let out of something I would have otherwise got into trouble for: another symptom of grieving).

As I sat back I noticed the unspoken realisation of emptiness in the compartment; the fact that you weren't there, conspiring with Pepper about the colour and make of Sirius Black's underpants. It was awfully depressing, I'll have you know, and in a desperate bid to make the compartment (and myself) feel less empty, I joined the conversation.

"_I _think that Black's underpants would be _grey, _like his soul," I put in, feeling proud of myself.

Pepper turned to me, smiling, and added, very seriously, "I think you are very right, Lily."

And that is how I became two people at once; myself, and a self-proclaimed stand-in for you.

A few hours later, I got up, announcing that I had to be in the prefects meeting, and, waving goodbye to my (now only two) best-friends, departed the compartment to make for the prefect's carriage.

I began to worry, for the umpteenth time, who was going to be head boy. I ran through the possibilities in my head, hoping to Merlin that it would be someone able who could pick up the slack for me, possibly a Ravenclaw. Yes, I thought. A Ravenclaw Head Boy would be very helpful in the way of my emotional ineptitude for the job of Head Girl.

I arrived and sat down next to Remus Lupin, a good friend of Black and Potter's, and, as you know, the other Gryffindor seventh year prefect to whom I have warmed to considerably over the years. A few other prefects were milling around the compartment, and as we waited for the rest of the prefects and the Head Boy to arrive, Remus turned to me, smiling his good natured smile and asking me about my summer. I said it was okay, feeling a little awkward considering the unavoidable fact that my summer was completely awful, and he knew it.

He seemed to realise this and smiled apologetically, saying, "I'm sorry for your loss. Mary was a really great girl."

I looked down at my hands which were clasping and unclasping in my lap as I mentally flailed about my brain to find the appropriate answer.

I was saved the trouble of answering by a voice that I knew did not belong to Remus. "She was a damn good Quidditch player, too," the voice said.

I looked up to see Potter standing at the entrance of the compartment, looking morose.

I frowned, and ignoring the niggling question at the back of my head as to why he was here, said, perhaps a little too accusatory, "That _would _be how you would choose to remember someone, Potter."

He frowned, too, looking genuinely confused at the statement. "What's wrong with that?"

Before I could interject, however, Remus butted in, saying, "Perhaps we should begin? Everyone's here."

What happened next was exceptionally confusing for me at the time, but now when I look back on it, I'm particularly embarrassed at how very stupid I was.

This is the exact conversation that followed:

Me: "What do you mean? Are you Head Boy, Remus?"

This was a completely understandable assumption in my opinion, for, as you know, Remus is quite smart and nice. However, Remus and Potter then looked at each other with surprised faces as if this was the stupidest question in the world. I ignored them, though, as I am so wont to do, and continued on.

Me: "And, incidentally, what are you doing here, Potter?"

The two boys shared more loaded looks before Potter finally answered.

Potter: "Remus isn't head boy."

Me: "Well, who is then? Are _you _Head Boy?"

I shot the latter question at an innocent seventh year Ravenclaw bystander, who shook his head rapidly, looking startled.

Me: "Well, tell me then, for Merlin's sake! Don't just stand there having a glance-a-thon!"

Yes, Mary. I realise that I am, in fact, mad. Remus then nodded at Potter in a _go on _sort of way.

Potter: "Evans, I'm head boy."

That was when he began to smirk his stupid _Potter _smirk that I so hate and so I began to glare at him.

Me: "That isn't funny, Potter. Remus, please just tell me who Head Boy is so we can start already."

Remus looked more awkward than ever and Potter's grin grew wider if that was even possible. This was when I began to realise that Potter may have not been lying.

Potter: "I'm not joking, Evans. Dumbledore made me Head Boy."

And so I sat there in stunned silence for about a million years while Potter laughed and sat himself down right next to me, addressing the prefects.

All I really can say about the conversation is that I thank my lucky stars that the prefects were all talking amongst themselves and didn't notice my stupidity. Needless to say, I'm awfully mad at Dumbledore for not including the name of the Head Boy in the letter; at least _then_ I would have had some preparation time instead of having it sprung on me like that.

The rest of the meeting went by in a daze of prefect duty explanations and Potter being surprisingly not horrible, discounting the occasional sarcastic remark about points and whatsoever. I would explain it to you in more detail but I can't honestly remember it, considering how lost in my own personal haze of _whys _and _hows _and _why oh whys_ about the newly appointed Head Boy, James Potter.

As I sat there, staring at him with my eyes narrowed and brooding over my bad luck, I couldn't (and still can't) believe I have to spend a year working with him, and his smile was as crooked as ever as he laughed at a sixth year Gryffindor's joke. I told him to pipe down as I began to explain the points system and he turned to me, grinning, those stupid eyes sparkling with consummate mirth and his _stupid _swotty glasses crooked and clashing with his bad-boy exterior as they always have.

It all annoyed me to no end.

And I am completely certain that you would be laughing at my pain right now, Mary, if you were here.

The rest of the train ride went by with nothing to report, besides the part where Pepper choked on a chocolate frog after being greeted cordially by Sirius Black, which was highly amusing and definitely a highpoint of mine and Lisa's day.

Arriving at Hogwarts definitely made me feel a lot better about the prospective year; watching as the castle loomed into view from the carriage windows and entering the Great Hall with the throngs of chattering students.

Pepper, Lisa and I found a spot at the Gryffindor table, and I sat down as Lisa talked about her plans for charms club and Pepper ogled a Ravenclaw boy and I thought about how you would have been glaring at the empty dinner plates on the table, willing them to fill before your eyes. Then, I know, you would have been whining about how you wished the sorting would be over already.

As much as I wouldn't have agreed with or accepted your whining, it still made me very sad as I sat at the table, lost in my thoughts while the sorting ceremony flew over my head.

Once the food appeared on the plates, I began to eat as I suddenly realised how hungry I was, and looked around the table, residing in the comfort of familiar faces.

At the end of the feast, Dumbledore stood up and said the usual notices, but I was surprised when he mentioned you, and we all had a moment of silence. It made me miss you all over again, Mary, but I felt awkward at the same time as I could feel the eyes of students upon Pepper, Lisa and I, as our friendship was apparently widely known.

Dumbledore then dismissed us, and as I got up I saw Potter's eyes on me a little further down the table, presumably waiting for me to catch up. That is when I realised with a jolt that it was expected of the Heads to meet in the Headmaster's office.

I caught up with Potter with a "hullo," and fell into step with him as we headed to Dumbledore's office.

It was silent for a while as I thought about the coming year and the prospect of working with him, which I was nervous about, although I thought that it had been going smoothly so far even though there wasn't much to go on as of yet.

Suddenly, Potter's voice intruded my thoughts and I jumped slightly as he asked, "Is it okay if I ask you something, Evans?"

I looked at him confusedly, a million thoughts running through my mind and a million ideas as to what it was he may have asked me, from the very possible, '_could you ask Dumbledore to give someone else the position of Head Boy, Evans?' _Or the more unlikely (yet not unheard of) question, '_go out with me, Evans?'_

My initial panic waned as I knew it could not be either of those as _a)_ I had a sneaking suspicion that Potter was secretly proud to have gained his Head Boy badge, and _b)_ he had not asked me out since fifth year.

All of this ran through my head in about a second and I squashed my panic as I smoothed my surprised expression and answered with a quiet, "I guess so," and looked up at him.

His expression was cautious yet determined, and his voice was similarly quiet as he asked, "do you know why?"

I had a niggling impression of what it was he was talking about, though to be safe I answered, "why what?"

We had stopped walking now - we were outside of the office, yet Potter seemed to be making no move of speaking password. He looked uncomfortable as he seemed to attempt to find the right words to use, and I thought that my notion as to what he was asking was most likely correct.

"Why… she did it." He let out, looking awkward as ever. Yes, I was right.

I gave him a grim smile in attempt at an assurance at his apologetic face and answered, "No, I don't know."

I thought about this as he took in my answer, and, sure, I knew that I had thought about and talked about it a lot, with the girls, my mother, and even Jane.

And then suddenly I found myself continuing, "I'd like to find out, though; in fact… I intend to."

I haven't any inkling as to why I was suddenly sharing my inner feelings and intentions with _Potter, _of all people, but the impressed half-smile that he gave me then was enough to make me feel like it wasn't such a bad thing.

He answered, "If you need help with anything, I'm here. I really liked Mary."

I looked at him in surprise and answered, "So did I."

It was an obvious statement and again, I don't know why I said it, besides the overriding truth; the fact that I really did like you.

Potter then smiled at me again, the sort of smile that was genuine and nothing like his usual smirk; a smile that I had rarely seen and also a smile that I found I was quite partial to. Then he spoke the password and we mounted the stairs to the headmaster's office, spiralling up towards the big oak door as I milled in my thoughts of offers and smiles.

So I guess this is why I decided to write to you tonight, Mary; to tell you that I promise to find out exactly what warranted a jump off of the astronomy tower that night.

I also wanted to tell you about my first day of term, even though I know you would be sad to be missing out on it, yet I also know that you would be mad at me if I didn't tell you all about it.

I noticed that they've taken your bed from the dormitory, and I'm not too sure which is sadder; an empty bed or an empty space where your bed should be. I suppose it's just another thing to dwell on. I miss you.

Lots of love,

Lily.

**Firstly, thankyou thankyou thankyou to those who reviewed! It was amazing to get them so quickly considering its only been around less than a day and I love you all for it. **

**To ****_Lil Lupin _****and****_ Guest, _****thankyou for the kind words, its so helpful and lovely to hear such niceties on the very first chapter. **

**to ****_Fyrebolt: _****thankyou so much and yes I do have the story planned out, but as is common, it's likely that things might change slightly as the story continues so opinions are always helpful and appreciated!**

**Also, this is technically the first proper chapters where characters are usually introduced and the world of Hogwarts and magic is outlined, though some might notice and wonder why I didn't go into much detail in this. I did this because, as you know, the story is being narrated to Mary, who already knows all of this so i figured it would be silly for Lily to go into great detail about the Marauders and Hogwarts and Pepper and Lisa in the letters. I'm sorry if this is confusing for you but I've taken it into consideration that you already (hopefully!) know about the Marauders and Lily and Hogwarts, and I plan on introducing Pepper and Lisa into a lot more detail and giving them both minor backstories in future chapters. (they wont get with the marauders - i promise!) so if you were worried about all that, don't be!**

**Please review with your thoughts and opinions on the story - i'd love to hear anything you have to say!**

**sorry about the long A/N!**

**xx**


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